I'd had a hard day. It was Monday; I'd got up at 6:30am and did'nt get home till 7:30pm, and by the time I got home, I was beat.
My mother greeted me in her usual, perky way. Sometimes it was annoying, but really there was no-one better to lift your spirits when you were down.
"Rough day, hon?" she asked when I entered the den and slumped down on the sofa, her voice lilting like she was talking to a baby. Well, that's how she always saw me, I guess, even at nineteen and 'the man of the house' since dad left.
"Yeah, pretty rough," I answered listlessly, staring at the commercials on TV. I hadn't even taken off my coat yet, or my boots.
"Aaaw, that's too bad. How was your day son"
My mom smiled slightly. "Still sore after yesterday, then, are we?"
I had to smile too; my mom always could see right through me. "Yes, I'm still sore," I answered, tersely but joking.
"Well, you shouldn't play so rough you know..." she intoned in mock chastisement. Then she began waggling a finger at me, smirking.
"Yeah, yeah, I know," I said, grinning in spite of myself. Games like this always cheered me up, mom teasing me like I was a little k**. My eyes hadn't left the TV screen. By now the program was back; 'Ready, Set... Cook!' One of my all-time least favorite shows, one that my mother insisted on watching.
"I hate this show," I announced.
"Ooooooooh!" cooed my mom, like an extra from a British sex comedy. "Look who's Mr. Grumpy!" She affected a 'there-there' baby voice. "Awww, did those big boys hurt my widdle-biddy booby thaaahn?"
"Mom" I began, a little sternly, "I hate this show, period. Whether I'm feeling stiff, tired out, or on top of the god-damn world, I hate this show."
Mom laughed, a sweet chuckle that made me forget my irritation, and I laughed too.
"I know, hon, I know. Mommy's only teasing!"
"And quit that little k** voice, would you!"
We both laughed hard for a few moments, me throwing a cushion at Mom when she kept on teasing me.
"I surrender, I surrender!" she wailed as I flung another cushion at her. "And keep it quiet, or you'll waken Chrissy. She only went to bed about a half-hour ago."
We calmed down, wisely. s*s was a real bitch if she didn't get her 10-hours beauty sl**p. There was quiet for a while.
"You know, though," Mom began brightly, "If you really are that sore, I could give you a back rub."
This was a little strange. May be she was still joking. "Umm, no, that's okay, Mom. Thanks anyway," I said, scoffing a little.
"No, I'm serious. I've been reading this book." She leaned down to the floor beside her armchair, and picked up a medium-sized hardback book. "It's all about aromatherapy and massage. It's good."
I rolled my eyes. That explained it. Mom doesn't have a career as such. Dad was always the bread winner, and after he ran off with his secretary, Mom struggled to find a job. There weren't many positions where 'experience as a home-maker' was a principal requirement. So she tried her hand at a few things, but never found the perfect job for her. Four years on, she's still looking, and it seemed this was her latest fad.
"Here we go," I said cynically, "Starting a massage parlour, are we? Where, in the cellar?"
"Don't mock! Honestly, I'm really into it. I've read up on all the techniques. I need some hands-on practice."
I waved my hands in the air. "No way! I'm not being your guinea pig for some new-fangled hocus-pocus, airy-fairy, arty-farty..." I'd ran out of proper rhyming couplets, so I settled for "... crappy-wappy stuff!"
"It's not new-fangled!" Mom insisted. "The Chinese have been doing it for years!"
"No wonder. You know the indigestion you can get from eating their food."
"I'm serious!" Then she paused, and eventually she threw up her hands, shrugging. "But, okay, if you want to walk around another day feeling like the tin-man, then that's fine by me..."
I relented. "Yeah, okay, you can try out your damned massage on me. But don't use any of those funky oils! If I turn up for practice tomorrow smelling like apricots or lavender, I'll get kicked off the team."
"It's okay, I don't have any essential oils yet. I'll just use warmed baby oil."
"And quit calling me a baby!"
At Mom's instruction, I stripped off. I wasn't crazy about this, but she left the room while I did it, and gave me a towel to d**** over myself for when she came back in. We were working in her bedroom, s*s being asl**p through in the bedroom we shared. Jesus, and that was another joke. Two teenagers of opposite sex sharing a room, Christ! Still, it was all we could afford, so we had to make the best of it, I guess.
I lay face-down on the bed, struggling but eventually managing to lay the towel over my bare ass. After a moment Mom came in. "Ready, hon?" she asked.
"As I'll ever be,"
"I've warmed the oil. Tell me if it's too hot."
I felt a drizzle of oil on my back. Actually, the temperature was just perfect.
"It's okay," I said.
"Good. Here we go..."
I felt Mom's fingers work the oil in a little. Then she began to slowly sweep her hands, fingers pointed upwards, across my back, towards my shoulders. When she reached the nape of my neck, her hands fanned outwards into circles across my shoulderblades.
I had to admit, it felt great. She was literally rubbing away the tension. I'd never felt anything like it.
"You're not bad at this," I said.
Her hands met again in the centre of my back, and she ran them down my sides in a pulling motion. She repeated this process three or four times, sweeping up my back, arcing with her hands, and then running them down my sides. It felt like heaven.
Then she worked on the backs of my legs, kneading my calf muscles, which always ached after a hard game. Then she moved back up my body, and over the tops of my shoulders, which she knuckled for a while "to ease out the knots", she said.
"Okay, turn over," she commanded after a while.
To be honest, I was totally into it by now, and did so gladly. Turning over, I took great pains to keep myself covered with the small towel, which seemed to amuse Mom, but she didn't say anything. I noticed also that she had changed into her robe while I was undressing.
"Lay back and close your eyes now, hon, just let the tension seep away..."
Actually, I was pretty mellow already. But I played along, and closed my eyes. Mom's soft voice continued in soothing tones.
"Just let yourself drift..."
I did. My mind really did feel like it was floating. Hundreds of random thoughts were entering my head, but not in the confused, crowded way that they usually did. There seemed to be real harmony to them, like hundreds of old friends meeting up and gelling together like they had when they were k**s, or like the thousands of spots on a Monet painting coming together to form an idyllic country scene.
I guess I let my mind wander a little far. I don't know whether it was the warmth of the oil, or the trance of near-sl**p, or just the hormones still raging through my teenage body. But after a while, my mind became totally detached from what was happening, and all I could feel was a pair of hands touching me sensuously, stroking my chest and gliding down my legs. Then the next thing I knew, Mom was talking.
"Looks like someone's really enjoying his massage!"
My eyes snapped open, and my stomach lurched at what they saw. My knob had become erect, and had tented the towel covering my groin. "Oh shit," I murmured, struggling to get up.
Mom laid a firm hand on my chest, and eased me back down. "Don't worry about that. And don't be embarrassed. It's perfectly natural."
I thought for a moment. What the hell, I decided, shrugging inwardly. The damage is done now. I'm lucky she didn't freak out like I did. I tried to relax again, and closed my eyes.
"Imagining I was some sexy masseuse, were you?" Mom said slyly.
Before I could stop myself, I'd said, "I don't need to imagine that you're sexy, Mom."
My stomach lurched again, but when I looked, Mom was just smiling, oiling up her hands once more. "That's very nice of you." she said. "Now lie back."
I did, letting her hands sweep over me again. Amazingly, my hard-on hadn't dwindled. Usually, a shock like that meant that Flop-city, but not this time. I guess I really had been turned on.
After a few more moments, Mom said, quite breezily, "You know, if you want, I could make this an all-over massage."
"What!?" I asked, shocked.
"Y'know... all over." Her hand ran up my leg, and dipped down slightly into my inner thigh, underneath the towel. Her knuckled brushed the testicle that hung there, causing my dick to rear up. "Cuz it looks to me like you could use some help."
Her other hand swept down my chest, sneaking under the towel slightly and stroking the shaft of my penis just a fraction. "What do you think?"
Her tone, as much as what she was saying, had shocked me into silence. She was obviously serious, but she was being very airy about it all. I found my voice.
"I-I don't know,"
"Well I do, and I think it would be a good idea. You could certainly use some relief here." She went to lift the towel, and I fumbled to grab her arm. Again, she laid a firm hand on my chest, and laid me back down.
"Relax, would you? It's nothing I haven't seen before." And with that, she whipped away the covering. My released knob sprang up, with such f***e that I wouldn't have been surprised if it actually had gone "Boiinnng!"
Mom gasped a little, not in shock exactly, but I guess in some surprise. "Well, okay... I haven't seen that before!"
She giggled, making me wonder for the thousandth time in just a few seconds what the hell was going on. My mind was again filled with hundreds of thoughts, but these weren't relaxed, these were confused, in turmoil; my mother wanted to... to what? Wank me off? Wasn't that wrong? But if it was, what was wrong with it, exactly? And if it wasn't... then I might just be in for a great wank from a woman who had a really talented pair of hands.
Mom seemed to be reading my mind. "If it makes you feel more comfortable, you can imagine I'm someone else. Like a girl you know from school, or whatever."
I figured I'd just go with it. To be honest, I didn't have much choice. Mom was already drizzling oil onto the head of my cock. Suddenly, when the oil hit my swollen glans, I longed for her expert hands to touch me. I closed my eyes.
"Wank me, Mom," I breathed. I think maybe she smiled.
Taking my cock in her grasp, she ran her fingers up and down the shaft, coating them in oil and then rubbing it in. Then she moved up to the head, working the lovely warm oil into my uncircumcised helmet, and she peeled back my foreskin gently, sending waves of pleasure through my body. Her oil-soaked fingers danced across the purple glans, softly rubbing the viscous liquid into my most sensitive of areas. With her free hand she poured more oil liberally onto my groin, until her hands were virtually swimming in the lubricant. Making a loose fist of her fingers, she jacked my cock up and down, my breathing increasing with the strength of her rhythm, and as she pounded my meat I arched my back and lifted my ass off the bed, thrusting against her, meeting her strokes with my eagerly pounding pelvis. I fucked her hand like the pussy I imagined but had never experienced, delighting in the slipperiness of her makeshift cunt. Then, as she jacked me, Mom used her other hand to kneed my helmet at it thrust back and forth between her fingers, the pain and pleasure mix sending me finally over the top until I came in waves and waves, and spurted my jizz all over myself, the bed, and my mother.
I collapsed on the bed, exhausted but deliriously happy, wondering what the hell had just happened, and not daring to wonder what the hell was going to happen next...
Without a word, Mom hastily left the room, leaving me wondering what the hell was going on. Not to mention leaving me to clean myself up, which I did using the discarded towel. Mom wanking me off had been the best experience of my life, but it was hardly something I could write about in English class, if you know what I mean.
I heard the faucets running in the bathroom next door, and I thought about Mom standing there, over the sink. I'd seen my mother naked many times before, but I'd never thought of her as a sexual object. Now though, my feelings about her were changing rapidly. I pictured her leaning over the sink to wash her face, bending over it, and the image excited me in ways I'd never known before. At 39, Mom had doubtless lost some of her youthfulness and vitality, but I couldn't say she'd lost her looks. She stood just shorter than me at 5'4", and had put on a few pounds like all maturing women, but it had been distributed well, and her figure was still good enough to be seen in a two-piece. If anything, age had improved her, making her previously ultra-svelte form fill out a little into an alluring and curvaceous figure. Sure, her un-dyed auburn hair showed a little grey around the edges (having two k**s does that, I guess), and her 34C breasts and gorgeous ass both had a little sag (ditto), but she was still a knockout, and I wondered at myself then for not realising it sooner.
The faucets stopped. Thinking about my mother had caused my dick to rear up again, and for some reason this embarrassed me and I quickly covered it with the towel. My mother appeared in the doorway, seemingly unsure about entering. After only a moment's hesitation she did, but she kept her eyes down, not meeting mine as she slowly, almost reluctantly, crossed the room to the side of the bed on which I lay. There was an awkward silence. Her eyes wandered the room, looking at anything except me, but finally their meanderings brought her gaze to the bed, where she spotted the towel.
"You sure you need that, after what just happened?" she asked, trying to make light of things. But even she knew that it was futile, and her chuckle at her own joke died in her throat.
I didn't know what to say. Mom seemed unsure about what we'd just done but I, though I'm ashamed to admit it, was at that moment undressing her with my eyes, growing ever-more excited at the thought of what was underneath that robe. At length, she took a deep breath, and spoke.
"Look, I never spoke to you about the birds and the bees, did I? But I guess you all pick this stuff up at school, so I suppose you know what I just did. Right?"
"Yeah," I said softly.
"Right. Okay. Some people would say that what we just did - damnit, what I just did! - is wrong, and I guess maybe they're right - "
"No, no," I interrupted, "What you just did for me was great, Mom!"
She raised a hand. "Yeah, but even so, some people think it isn't right. And that's why I want to explain what happened."
"But I know what - "
Her hand shushed me, and insanely I thought of Dr. Evil in Austin Powers.
"Look, I want to explain. Okay. Son, you're father left me a long time ago. Since then, I've never seen anyone else, I've never... been with another man."
"Okay," I prompted.
"It's just..." She seemed to be struggling to explain. "It's just... it's a great thing for a woman to feel wanted, to feel desired, you know what I mean?"
"Well, I haven't felt that way in a long time. And then tonight..." She trailed off.
"What!?" I said, dying to know what she was trying to say.
"Tonight, when I saw how you responded to my massage... I felt desired again."
I propped myself up onto an elbow. "But you should feel that way, Mom. You're beautiful."
She had been looking into her lap. Now she raised her eyes, and smiled wanly at me. "That's nice to hear, honey." Then her face grew serious again. "So, when I felt that rush of desire, it was hard to ignore, so I thought I'd... Christ, I don't know what I was thinking. But then after, when I realised what I'd done, I just had to get out of here and think for a minute." As a realisation seemed to hit her, she quickly added, "Oh God! I'm really sorry I rushed off, hon. That must've confused you a lot."
I smiled, very slightly. "It's okay, Mom. It actually helped to make things clearer to me."
Her brow furrowed as though she didn't quite get my meaning, but soon she shook her head quickly, dispelling any - or at least any more - confusing thoughts. She continued.
"The reason I got out of here was, I feared that maybe things would go further than they did, that my desire would take over. Because see, when I rationalised things in the bathroom, took a minute to get my head straight, I realised I'd stupid thinking that I'd made you react like that."
Now I was really confused. "What d'you mean?"
"Because I believe that the brain is the body's most powerful erogenous zone. And when I told you to fantasise about some sexy girl you knew, I realised that, if you'd been thinking about her, then it was her you were coming for, and not me. So for me to f***e things further would have been really wrong, never mind any other... issues."
I had to admit, it made sense. But it had one fatal flaw.
"But Mom," I said softly, "The sexy girl I was thinking about was you."
She took in a breath sharply, and drew back a little as though the words were a terrifying snake rearing up at her. Her voice was heavy and breathless. "You mean...?"
"Yes, Mom. I wanted to take things further too." Her brow knotted again as she processed this new information, and I felt some rationalisation of my own was necessary. "Okay, Mom. You haven't had a man in years. Well I haven't had a woman ever. And I can't think of any other woman I'd rather have."
She looked deep into my eyes, as though frightened but hugely excited by some unknown adventure. "Are you sure?" she asked firmly.
"Mom, I've never been surer of anything in my life."
She nodded, and her hand snaked out to remove the towel from over my midsection. Once again my dick bounced free, rearing up to its full height.
"You have a beautiful cock," my mother said softly. I looked down. It's not the biggest in the world (about seven inches at full stretch), but it has good girth and stands to attention straight. My mother stroked my member lightly as she had done only minutes before, and it pulsed under her expert touch.
"Take off your robe for me, Mom," I requested. My mother nodded demurely and stood, unfastening the belt and opening her robe slowly, letting it slide at last to the floor. I drew in my breath in wonder at her fabulous body, which for me right then held the best figure in the world. Her tits did have a little sag, but they still stood proudly, two lovely, milky globes each tipped with dark nipples and areolae. Her belly was slightly round, but still tight and with a cute little bellybutton and lower, I feasted my eyes upon her gorgeous pussy, her abundant curls of dark red hair already glistening with the evening's activities. I was breathless. "Oh, Mom, you're beautiful!" I said softly.
Mom knelt at the side of the bed, and took my raging hardon into her hands. "I want to see how this tastes, son." And with that, she plunged her lips over my cock, and pleasure swept over me like a warm blanket. As her fingers danced about my shaft, her tongue teased my helmet, and I nearly blew my load instantly as she rolled back my foreskin with her soft lips, as gentle as marshmallows. Building saliva in her mouth and mixing it with the pre-cum oozing out of me, she moistened my cock and sucked it like a glorious lollipop, occasionally driving me even wilder with a tiny nibble at the bottom of my glans, until I could stand it no longer and was overcome by the familiar feeling of orgasm.
"Mom, I'm gonna cum..." I muttered through my ecstasy.
Mom responded by plunging down further on my dick, signally that she wanted to take what I had to give her. As she felt the first spasms of my orgasm, she raised her head slightly, removing all but the head of my penis from her mouth as she jacked my jism from me. I knew that true deep-throating was the stuff of porn-movie sets and optimistic fiction, and I also knew that this was neither. But she didn't miss a drop, gulping down my spunk hungrily and lapping it up even as it threatened to overflow her gaping mouth.
"God, I love that taste," she said when she was done.
I didn't miss a beat. "Mom, I want to taste you, too. Let me eat you, please!"
She smiled, flattered no doubt at my eagerness, but I couldn't help it, I was more excited than I'd ever been before. My mother stood up and slid onto the bed. I was treated to a stunning view of her excited cunt as she swung one leg over to straddle me, and the sight got even better as she moved her pelvis towards my ravenous mouth.
"Just do what feels good, son," she said.
I took her hips in my hands, guided her towards me, loving the vision of her engorged twat thrusting forward to meet my tongue. At last I put my mouth to her, and my mouth was filled with a taste sweeter than Ambrosia. Her lips were almost pulsating, and her clit stood erect like a hungry chick. I licked gently at the love-button with my tongue, flicking it like I'd heard you were supposed to. Above me, Mom was in raptures.
"Yes, honey, yes," she was gasping, "You're doing great, sweety, that's right."
I covered her entire mons with my mouth, lapping at her pussy lips and teasing her clit and the area around it. My mother ground herself into me as she came, filling my mouth with her sweet juice and washing it all over my face. She withdrew herself from me and lowered herself down, until our eyes met. She kissed me aggressively, mashing her lips against mine as she sucked her juices from mouth, and I licked mine from hers. Suddenly she broke the kiss.
"Fuck me, son," she commanded simply. Turning onto her back, she pulled me over on top of her, spreading herself wide and opening her cunt for me. "Fuck your Mommy."
My cock was raging again. I aimed my knob at her, pushing the head against the opening of her pussy, she drawing herself tight suddenly to delight in the feeling of my dick rubbing at her piss-flaps. In time she relaxed, and I slid myself into her.
It was like entering heaven itself. Years of neglect had made her tighter than a mother-of-two should be, and she used the strong muscles expertly, pulling my cock into her and sliding it out as though it were her who was fucking me. But I didn't give a damn either way.
"Oh, Mom," I said in delight, "We're fucking, Mom! Jesus, Mommy, I'm fucking you!"
"Yes, my darling," she gasped, "Fuck Mommy harder! Give it all to me, my baby, give me all of your sweet cock!"
I thrust myself deeper into her. Our bodies found a rhythm as they pistoned into and away from each other, meshing seamlessly like well-oiled gears. My mother raised her lovely ass off the bed to meet me even deeper, and I pounded harder into her until I could feel the rush of orgasm.
"Mom, I'm gonna cum!"
"Me too, baby, me too, just a little more, baby, that's right, that's right... ah, ah, YES! Oh, GOD, YES! Do me baby, I'm cumming, you're making Mama cum, sweetheart!"
I blew my load into her as she orgasmed, filling her pulsing, contracting pussy with my jizz as we came together, years of sexual frustration being released into one another, and I held my jumping cock inside her as my mother shuddered to the last of her many orgasms.
I collapsed onto the bed beside her, stroking her head and kissing her again on the lips, but gently this time. Mom returned my kiss with closed eyes, letting herself drift into the pleasure of the moment, and we remained like that for a long time, softly kissing and nuzzling each other's mouth, me stroking her hair away from her sweat-soaked, beautiful face whenever it fell forward off the pillow.
We didn't speak. No words were needed. We just lay together, rejoicing in the love we felt for each other, and eventually fell into blissful sl**p. In the early hours of the morning, when the rising sun awoke me and I realised that it hadn't all been a dream, I felt like the luckiest guy alive...
Posted by jester51 2 years ago Views: